


I'll Sleep on It

by Editorsan, Named



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Also Pappy, Angst, Beating, Blood, But probably mostly angst, Cunnilingus, Dancing, Dark, Death, Drinking, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Forced Drug Use, Forced Orgasm, Fun, Gen, Good things too, Gore, Happy, Hard Times In Relationship, Humor, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Murder, Music, Not Happy, Obsession, Other, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Science, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Smut, Smut Ch 7&9, Soul Bond, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Tags Are Really Just Trigger Warnings, Tentacle Rape, That's Always Good Stuff, Torture, Withdrawal Symptoms, and a cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-02 20:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10226909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Editorsan/pseuds/Editorsan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Named/pseuds/Named
Summary: A world crumbling at the seamsA soul torn from realityA peoples wrought from unityThe angel holding all the keysSteel yourself, you have been warnedThere is no shelter from the storm





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Deal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9083107) by [cosmicArtist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicArtist/pseuds/cosmicArtist). 



You lay lazily along the ground before the stout skeleton, hands interlaced behind your head. Your dreams have always been on the odd side, but this takes the cake.

“uh, what’re ya doin’ there, buddo.” He continues to hold his hand out, using it to track your every movement. His face shows clear confusion, making you wonder just how a skeleton can emote so dramatically.

“I’m laying down, even though there’s no floor.”

He chuckles at your astute observation concerning the pitch black surroundings. “doncha wanna talk about it or something?”

“What is there to talk about?” You use your elbows to insinuate a shrug. “I take your hand, and you whisk me away to never land and make me the happiest person on earth, right?” You tilt your head slightly to face him, furrowing your brow and scrunching your nose. “You look uncomfortable. Why don’t you sit down? Rest your arm a bit?” You pat the non-floor beside you.

“… i’d… rather stand i guess.” He keeps up with the creepy phalange thing, blinking slowly at you in wonderment.

You take guesses as to what could be confusing him so much. Maybe your nonchalant attitude. Maybe your lack of interest in talking. Maybe your refusal at his beautiful deal. Whatever it is, you’d at least like to see if this whole thing happens again. If it’s real.

As it is now, you can hear the rain outside your bedroom window softly pattering at the panes of glass. You’re glad it’s a quiet night, and happy for such an awesome escape as a silly skeleton offering a horrendously fishy deal that no one in their right mind would take.

“That’s okay… what was it? Sans?”

He nods at you quizzically.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be taking that deal any time soon, if I ever do. Is there a time limit here?” You lick along the top row of your teeth as he as he shakes his skull at you.

“nope. i was expecting that. You’re stuck with me until this deal is made, kiddo.”

“’M’kay. I guess that’s all I needed to know, then.” You rest your head fully on your hands, closing your eyes peacefully, as if to sleep.

You hear a snort from your dream skeleton. “are you trying to sleep in your sleep?”

You nod, eyes still shut. “Yup. Believe it or not, I really need it. I offered you a space seat.” You wave the hand closest to him in a rag doll motion above the offered space, flopping your right leg over the left, and drifting into the deepest depths of meditation. You hardly notice the soft shifting from the skeleton beside you.  
  
You wake up more well rested than you’ve felt in years.  
  
You wish you could’ve kept sleeping. It feels safe to have him watch over you.  


* * *

  
  
“- And then he jumped off the cliff and yelled ‘EAT MY DICK YOU TURTLES!’” You both yowl with laughter at the climax of the great turtle fiasco of ’93. “The poor turtles! ‘gasp’ Their FACES!!”

Sans suffocates on laughter, hacking away as he slaps his knee. “i don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about anymore. i was laughing too hard!”

“Oh my gods, don’t make me say it again!!! I’ll die!!!!” You suck air greedily into your lungs.

“eat my dick turtles! oh shit that’s a good line!” He wipes away tears from the edges of his sockets. “i sea why you love talkin’ about your bro so much. he makes a real splash of an impression!”

You both roll into new waves of chortles. You wonder if Sans has a stomach, and if it hurts as much as yours does. “That was my bro for ya! I mean, that is him.” You giggle into the back of your hand. “Man, you’re just the best listener, ya know? You don’t make a sound all night, and you still miss the best part of the story!”

“thanks, i try.” He winks in jest, his saucy smirk teasing you along with his charm.

You fall into comfortable silence, taking a decent span of time to stare into the same spot of emptiness before you speak. A smile still graces the edges of your lips. “Why did you choose me? Ya know? I’m just a random teenager. Just a nobody who isn’t even allowed to leave the house for school half the time. Why didn’t you pick some adult with an already put-together life?”

He thinks about it for a minute or so. “maybe- and i’m just making a guess- it’ll be easy for me to make you happy, cause your life is already shit.”

“WOW fuck you th-”

“OR… or maybe I don’t have any control over it at all, and ya just got super lucky to be stuck with me.” He chuckles as your face droops from anger into thought.

“Well, I guess I’ll never know unless you tell me.”

“i guess not.”  


* * *

  
  
Your days are now spent wishing for the nights so you can speak with the reaper of your dreams. Everything about him is what you want in a friend. Intelligent, funny, persistent. You even love the seemingly apathetic façade. “See, I know you act like you don’t care because you care too much.” You chortle.

“that ain’t it kid, but keep on dreamin’.” Wink.

“Of course you want me to dream! How else could I make this deal, soul thief!”

“hey, c’mon, it's a DEAL. it ain't stealin’ if it’s dealin’.”  
  
Usually you spend your time talking about your younger brother and his antics, or theorizing about different aspects of the universe. You’re nowhere near his level of knowledge on the subject, but you enjoy listening to him go on tangents you hardly comprehend, interrupting him frequently to ask questions upon questions.

He doesn’t berate you, or laugh at your idiocy, like the people at school. He simply answers, causing an endless cycle of unfinished thoughts and new ramblings.

After so long listening, you feel like you’re beginning to understand, when he’s on a more basic level.

You never shake his hand, though. He’s a patient one. It’s been nearly a year. Every night he’s standing there, waiting. Jokes ensue. It’s your escape. Your Zen. This night seems the same as the others, at first. Loud music plays in the dredges of your dream. Sans is annoyed at it, as always, but he seems more on edge than normal.

“What’s the matter Mr. Dreamman?” You prod. You know he hates it when you call him that, but it’s the silly, endearing kind of hate.

“i don’t like this fuckin’ song, okay? is it too much to ask for one quiet night around here? and quit calling me that, you know i hate it.” He grits. His grin is stained and his hand is very prepared to develop into a fist.

“I’m sorry…” You offer meekly. You’ve never seen him lose his temper like this. He’s usually all jokes, and laughing it off. “I’ve tried to tell them. They won’t turn it off.”

“i know, i know. i’m not mad at you. i just wish you would come with me so ya don’t have to deal with that crap anymore.” He uses his non-deal-making hand to rub the bridge above his nasal cavity.

“But what about Damien?” You protest. “I’m not leaving my brother! I already told you that.” You cross your arms, glaring into his tired eyelights. If this is bothering you so much, why don’t you just leave already?

But you know you don’t want that.

“And I told YOU he can come, so what’s the problem here!? You like torturing yourself or somethin’? Staying here is stupidity! I swear, you’re the most stubborn human I’ve ever met in my life!”

“I. Don't. Know. What the heck your stupid deal will do to him, okay? We’ve talked about this! Why don’t you let it go already?”

“DAMN IT!”

You reel back. You’ve never heard him come even close to yelling before. He’s never been so angry. You realize how frightening he can be without the lazy apathy covering it.

“…sorry, i didn’t intend to yell like that…” He looks… very un-Sans like. It concerns you. “i just wish you would trust me. it’s been a year. we’ve talked about everything. i hate what’s happening here. i wish you could understand that I’m trying to help.”

“I do understand… it’s just… you don’t know about...”

“what? what don’t I know about?”

“…I have to go.” You will yourself awake, against the obvious wishes of Sans, who is protesting as you do.  
From then on, he gives up holding his hand out to you. You both sit on the invisible surface of your mind, seemingly chipper discussions interlaced with tense depression.

One night, as soon as the fuzzy edges of your delve into dream land disperse, the conversation you knew was coming shows itself.

“we gotta talk…” He doesn’t miss a beat. It’s a quiet night, for once. Not even your normal greeting belongs here.

“I know…”

“i don’t really want to say this...” He scratches the back of his skull with one hand, his other in his pocket lackadaisically, as is the new norm.  
“bud,” He starts. “i can’t keep doing this… i can’t keep watchin’ ya hurt yourself by sticking around here. i’m gonna go, for tonight. i’ll be back tomorrow… to say goodbye…” He shrugs placidly, waiting for your response with heavy sorrow on his face, masked by his constant smile.

You simply stare at your clad feet, rocking on them and ignoring reality. You shouldn’t have told him why you were acting funny the other night. That your parents made you take drugs. What they did to you after.  
You knew it would scare him away, and yet it was too much to handle on your own.

He dissolves into the darkness, leaving you with teardrops on your toes, falling listlessly.  


* * *

  
  
You’ve been staring at each other for several minutes, now. Neither of you wants to continue. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least.

“So, this is goodbye, then?” You’re already crying. You hadn’t noticed until the tightness in your vocal chords made it evident.

“it’s not too late, though.” He pulls his pristine, boney fingers from his sweater pocket. “please, i’m beggin’ ya here. come with me. take the deal. i’ll make you happy. i’ll make damien happy. we’ll do everything together. everything we’ve been talking about, like watching the light bugs in the wishing room. that doesn’t have to be theoretical. it can be real. i’m REAL, i promise. just take my hand and let me show you.

“Sans… I cant.” You say through stifled sobs.

“why. just… why?” He’s inching toward you, almost mentally willing you to take his hand.

You break down, curling your fingers over your eyes. “I’ve been lying. Damien can’t come, Sans… he’s dead.” You choke each word out with regretful trepidation. Sans is in a clear state of shock. His eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen, even through your blurred vision. “Three years ago, there was an accident… he died in the hospital, and after it happened, my parents… They went crazy. They started all kinds of drugs… I just wanted him to be alive again. I’m so sorry.”

He looks through you, robotically. “i… understand... i don’t care.” He shakes off the startled expression, renewing his insistence with vigor. “i’ve lost my brother more times than i care to count. we can work through it.”

“Stop. I can’t. Just go. You’re only making this harder for me.” You hug your arms against yourself, looking at the ground between you.

He looks as if his heart has stopped. As if you are attempting to rip his soul from his body. “don’t… don’t… don’t do that. forget the soul shit. Just come with me.” The panicked sound to his voice Increases hastily with each word.

“No. I won’t be able to handle it when I take your hand and I’m left alone. And then you’ll be gone forever.” Your eyes are closed. Even in this dreamlike state things are coming more slowly.

“quit sayin’ stuff like that. if you’re willing to go that far then just try! Just take the fucking deal. LOOK AT ME!”

You slowly open your eyes and scan them over him.

His hands are clasped directly in front of you as he sits on his knees. “I’m on my knees. I’m being you, just do this for me. If we were ever friends at all, you’ll give me this one chance. To make you happy for nothing in return. What could it possibly hurt?”

You give him a solemn, one-sided smile as you shake your head. “It’s already too late…”

Sans shuts his eyes, pushing tears down his cheeks before resting his balled hands against your midriff, and his forehead against those. “what’d you take?”

You squeeze his arm with one hand, using the other to brush along his skull comfortingly. “It was oxycodone. The whole bottle.”

He unfurls the fingers of one hand, holding them up to you in a last ditch effort. “just for the end. please…?”  
  
“… okay.” You interlace your fingers with his, and everything is dark.  


* * *

  
  
It seems like both an eternity, and only moments before you hear distant, light chatter, and a steady beeping. You slowly open your crusted eyes to look around an unfamiliar room.

It looks like a hospital. Uncomfortable tubing lines your throat. A heart monitor spikes as panic begins settling in. You try to move your arms so you can pull it out, but you are stopped by a hand. A familiar, solid, and white hand. Your eyes travel up the thick bones of the arm and meet with the sockets of an impossible person.

“it’s okay, kiddo. you’re safe now. it’s gonna be alright.” The heart monitor slows and evens, causing Sans to give a you a relaxed grin. “told ya i’m real.” He laughs gently.

You smile at him through the tubing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out [The Deal](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9083107/chapters/20654137) by [cosmicArtist](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicArtist/pseuds/cosmicArtist), the inspiration for this work!
> 
> Chapter contains attempted suicide, forced drug use,

**Author's Note:**

> Ask me stuff?: [Named's Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/officiallynamed)
> 
> Check out [The Deal](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9083107/chapters/20654137) by [cosmicArtist](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicArtist/pseuds/cosmicArtist), the inspiration for this work!


End file.
